


sing your songs of peace and love

by dustofwarfare



Series: come aboard (let's go dreaming) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Poly V, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, polyamorous v
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: "“Oh, what? It’s fine to throw out my sexual history with both of you like you have some right to have feelings about it, but Hyne forbid I mention the fact you two are so hot for each other the only way you know how to deal with it is by fighting?”(Or, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, and you can't make a relationship without breaking a few rules.)--It's been two years since Ultimecia's defeat, and Rinoa likes to think she and Squall have formed a relationship based on love, mutual respect and trust. So when Seifer Almasy returns to the Garden as the new gunblade instructor, Rinoa thinks it's about time her boyfriend and his rival face the facts about why they just can't seem to let each other go.(Post-game poly!fic with a V -- meaning Squall is the center and Rinoa and Seifer are the points.)





	sing your songs of peace and love

**Author's Note:**

> I have never loved a het!canon!ship like I love Squall/Rinoa, and it took me *COMPLETELY* by surprise as I played through the game recently for the first time. And yet, Seifer/Squall is everything I love so....behold, polyamory ahoy!
> 
> Things I love and that are in this fic: badass!Rinoa, sex positivity, polyamory negotiations, strong female friendships, consent and communication. 
> 
> (Note: I'm playing a bit fast and loose with Rinoa and Squall's sorcerer/knight bond, and how it would make sense to me that it would function. And I am 100% using it for fic purposes, for which I feel no guilt :D) 
> 
> Part I of a four part series, the titles and series name are taken from the song Dreamboat 730 by Ringside. Each part is from a different character's POV, and the last one will be alternating POV from all three. :D

**sing your songs of peace and love**

The first time it happens, Rinoa is in a meeting.

She’s taken a position as a diplomat for Balamb Garden, tasked with helping the delicate negotiations between SeeD, other Gardens and various city governments. She’s nearly certain that they made this position up just for her, but she loves being able to work with her friends and hopefully mitigate conflicts before they’re required to go put their lives on the line.

Rinoa understands, now more than ever, how sometimes you have to stand up and fight for what’s right. But she’d also love it if that fight could be through civil discussions over a conference table, instead of crossed gunblades in an alternate dimension.

It’s not an easy job by far, especially in a post-war world still reeling from trying to understand concepts like “sorceresses from the future” and “time compression.” But there’s a lot of tension and people are angry, especially the Galbadians, even though all the yelling doesn’t make the meetings any less dull. It’s a lot of men who want to hear themselves talk, and Rinoa has perfected her “no, yes, I’m listening and you’re _very_ smart,” face when honestly neither of those things are true.

She’s doodling pictures on her notepad when she feels a warm rush go through the bond she shares with Squall. And it makes her blush because it’s not the occasional quiet affection she gets sometimes, randomly, when they’re apart. Squall’s gotten better in the last two years at talking, but he still spends a lot of time in his head. He likes being able to just think that he misses her and have her feel it.

But this is a totally different thing. This is the feeling she gets when they’re together, when his hands are on her, when he’s kissing her senseless and driving her wild beneath him. This is just sex, and the part of sex where all you’re thinking about is getting off.

Rinoa shifts a bit in her chair, because this is very distracting. Is he – doing it on purpose? Squall is very physical and likes sex a great deal, but he’s never sent her sexual energy randomly in the middle of the afternoon. When she’s in a _meeting_.

Rinoa focuses in on the bond, and peeks. She gets an immediate impression of hot water (the shower), and there’s no one else there, just Squall, which means he’s – ah.

Rinoa hopes no one is looking at her because she’s sure her face is on fire. She’s never felt this before, this distanced-pleasure and muted lust that is one thousand times more interesting than this meeting could ever hope to be.

Logically Rinoa knows that Squall gets himself off when she’s not there. He’s not the only one, either. But it’s never come through across their bond like this, and she wonders why. Is he really trying to share? Is he fantasizing about something he can’t quite put into words so he wants her to see?

They have rules in place about the bond and how and when it can be, if not silenced, at least muted; but this has never come up, and Rinoa is curious enough that she sinks into it and takes a quick look at what’s going on his head.

She’s not naïve enough to think Squall doesn’t find other people attractive, obviously, but this…yeah, this one she hadn’t been expecting. She doesn’t get detailed images but impressions, and they give her the vaguest idea of the fantasy…which involves Squall putting Irvine on his knees and choking him with his cock while telling him to be quiet. There’s a lot of hair pulling, and not in the way he does it to Rinoa. This isn’t about sex as much as dominance, which would explain why it’s so familiar and yet somehow not. He never feels this way about her.

Rinoa pulls out of the bond connection hurriedly, and the nice lady beside her suggests she should excuse herself for the day, because she looks a little flushed and maybe she’s coming down with something?

Rinoa knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, and makes her escape with her face still on fire.

***

She spends some time thinking about what she saw when she’s by herself in their apartment, turning it over and over, identifying her feelings.  

Is she mad at him for getting off? Definitely not. They spend enough time apart that it’s a necessity, and besides, she’s had someone invade her mind that she _didn’t_ agree to, and if anything will make you appreciate having privacy in your thoughts, that’ll do it.

She’s not really jealous, either; there’s no denying how much he loves her, she doesn’t even need their bond to know that. And the idea of Squall seducing someone is…well, she hates to say it makes her giggle, but it does.

Squall is very good in bed, that’s not the problem. It’s the getting someone there in the first place that she thinks he’ll have trouble with, though admittedly, it might not be that hard to convince Irvine.  

The thing she’s focusing on is how rough the encounter is, how Squall is using his physical strength and sex to dominate someone. He can get a little rough, but never like that. Hyne knows she talks a lot but if he ever tried to shut her up like that? She’d set his pretty hair on fire.  

She’s still thinking about this when Squall comes home, and the way his cool blue eyes go all soft when he sees her, that little pleased tilt to his mouth, makes her heart melt. Contentment is a good look on Squall. It makes her happy that she’s been able to help him find it.

“Hi,” he says, stepping close. His touch is confident, sure, as he leans in to kiss her. “How was your day?”

“Um.” She presses her face to his neck and gives a little wild laugh. “….Enlightening?” She’s going to have to tell him what happened, of course. It was an invasion of privacy, and she wants to be honest about it. He probably doesn’t even know he did it, and it’s not fair to keep that from him.

“That’s good, right?” he asks, pulling away from their kiss. He smoothes her hair back, as always looking like he can’t quite believe he gets to touch her.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t talking about the meeting. That was just kind of boring, and do Galbadians think if they just talk really loud, everyone will think they’re right?”

Squall shrugs in his effortless, Squall way. “Most people think that.”

True. She sighs and wraps her arms around him; the physical contact is nice because she loves him, but it’s also incredibly grounding. “The, ah. Enlightening thing. It was something else.”

“Oh?”

She can’t help but smile as he tenses, like he’s readying himself for battle. “Something personal, Commander, so stand down.” She pulls back, kisses him soundly, then goes to sit cross-legged on the bed. “I sorta…peeked in. When you were showering after your training.”

Squall blinks, then, predictably, blushes and ducks his head. “Oh. Uh. I – training session got a bit intense. Needed to um…blow off some steam. I usually try to not make it so obvious.”  

Hyne, he’s adorable. And ridiculous. “I’m sorry that I intruded, but I was curious. And it was a _really_ boring meeting, Squall.”

Squall is fidgeting, looking less like a competent military commander and more like a guy whose girlfriend just told him she caught him jacking off in the shower. “Are you mad?”

“What, that you….no! Of course not,” she assures him. She gives him a small smile. “I do it, too, you know. Not in the shower, but, yeah.”

He looks a little intrigued, but mostly still embarrassed.  

“I just wanted to tell you and let you know that I…won’t do it again. Peek or anything, I…you know how strongly I feel that we need to be able to keep our own thoughts and be individuals and all that.”

He nods, and she can see the second it occurs to him that maybe she not only knows what he was doing, but who he was thinking about while he did it. His eyes go wide, looking more blue than gray thanks to the bright red blush on his face. “So you saw….”

She nods. “It’s less seeing and more just…knowing, I guess? And I didn’t know you swung that way, so I was kind of surprised? But not in a bad way,” she adds, hastily. Definitely not. She’s not sure he won’t run away like a terrified cactuar if she mentions finding it hot, though.

“Rinoa,” he says, swallowing visibly. “The – he was being stupid and a junior cadet almost got hurt. Then he did that thing he does, you know, how he’s so…” Squall waves a hand. “So _Irvine_ , and I just…I was mad, and it sort of just happened that my brain went there.”

That’s a lot of words for Squall. It’s also a testament to the nearly two years they’ve been together that he can say any of them and not just stride out of the room with a muttered, “Whatever,” which was his way of dealing with most everything before the war and in the immediate aftermath.

“You don’t need to justify it or anything.” She grins. “I know how he is.”

“He’s a guy, though,” Squall says, like maybe Rinoa didn’t realize that. “That’s not…you don’t mind that?”

She shrugs. “Not really. I think girls are hot all the time. But that’s my point, it’s not up to me to like it or not, it’s _your_ private thoughts and I’m sorry I looked without you inviting me.”

“It’s fine.” Squall might mean that and he might not, he’s a little tense for her to tell for sure. “I just thought you’d be mad that it was someone else at all.”

“Squall, I don’t think you’re gonna cheat on me. And not with Irvine. I mean, he’s pretty but you don’t know where he’s been. Just ask Selphie.” She giggles, but he doesn’t so much as crack a smile. “There’s something bothering you…are you mad at me? It’s okay if you are, like I said, I shouldn’t have looked.”

“ _I’m_ not mad,” Squall says. “I guess I just think that you should be and I don’t know why you’re not.”

“Because you’d be mad?” she guesses, and he flushes and looks away.

“That’s probably not fair, is it.”

“Nope. I won’t give you shit for fantasizing about choking Irvine with your cock, but that goes both ways.”

He bites his lip like he’s about to say something he knows she won’t like, “Are you not mad because Irvine’s a guy? What if I was thinking about another woman?”

“I don’t know,” she says, honestly. “I think if you’d been having the same fantasy about Selphie, making her be quiet that way, I think _that_ would have bothered me, but maybe that’s not fair. In fact, I know it’s not, but….” She shrugs. “Feelings don’t always make sense. I know I’d never want you to do that to me, but I thought it was hot you wanted to do it to him.”

Squall’s face shuts down entirely as he goes somewhere in his head that she can’t follow.

She waits, patiently, and he makes a frustrated sound, caught up in his inability to communicate. In the early days of their relationship she would get impatient and go poking around to find the crux of what he was trying to say, but she’s learned her lesson and only does that if he makes it clear that she should.

Now, she waits, and lets him try and put it into words.

“I … sex was always like that. Before you, I mean.”

“Just a fantasy?” She’s not sure what he means.

He rakes a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, obviously. I mean, you’re the only person I’ve ever even kissed, Rin. Just…if I ever had fantasies about sex it was more like what I was doing to Irvine than what we do in bed.” He looks at her, tormented. “I _hate_ talking about this.”

“I can tell,” she says, and she tries to let him know through her words and their bond how much she appreciates that he’s doing it at all. “But I think I get it. You only ever got turned on when you were angry at someone?”

He looks a little relieved that she put it into words. “Yeah. And believe me there are times you make me angry, and times I really want you to be quiet, but I would never…never touch you like that. _Ever._ I feel a little guilty about thinking about doing it to Irvine because he’s my friend.”

_He’d totally like it._

She doesn’t say it out loud, but either he catches the thought or has the same one, because they share an amused glance.

“Can we stop talking about this, now?” Squall asks, hopefully. “If I’m not mad, and you’re not mad?”

She nods. “I won’t do it again. Really. Your fantasies are your own, even if they’re about Irvine.” She tilts her head a little. “But since I already saw that one, I’m still going to think it’s hot.”

“I don’t – okay, fine,” Squall says, throwing his hands up. He still looks a little embarrassed. “Not sure I get that. But whatever –” he stops himself and gives her a little half-grin.

Rinoa smiles flirtatiously at him and starts playing with the hem of her shirt. “Now can you come over here and make it up to me for distracting me during my meeting?”

Squall’s eyes go mercury-hot and he gives her a slow once-over, a look so intensely sexual that she feels it course through her blood like an antidote curing poison. “Don’t you mean so you can thank me for making your meeting more interesting?”

“And that,” she agrees, and he pounces.

***

A few days later she waits until she knows he’s not busy-busy, as in, not stuck in recruitment meetings or training, not facing down a T-Rexsaur with cadets or, Hyne forbid, talking to his father.

She makes herself comfortable on their bed, lies on her stomach and slides a hand beneath and under her panties. She strokes herself slowly, eyes drifting closed, and shares her own fantasy involving a mutual friend – in this case, Quistis.

Quistis is gorgeous and competent and smart, and Rinoa can’t help but find any woman hot who can wield a whip.

He’s at their room in record time, his eyes glittering and his face flushed, maybe blushing but definitely turned on. He makes a small sound when he sees her, naked save a pair of panties, writhing a little.

He unbuckles enough belts to get his pants shoved down and fucks her just like that, hard and fast but still with such control, taking care even as caught up in lust as he is not to hurt her. She comes on his cock and twice on her fingers, and once more against his mouth because Squall has a thing for going down on her after they fuck.

Then he collapses next to her, relaxed and buzzing with happy energy, the mental equivalent of a grin. “You made your point, Heartilly.”

“See? Fantasies can be fun.”

“Mm.” He laughs, a soft and intimate sound that makes her as happy as the sex. Maybe more so. “Quistis would never let you do that with her whip, though.”

***

Quistis asks to see her a few days later, and Rinoa is momentarily horrified at the thought that Squall told her about the whole fantasy thing. Then she remembers it’s _Squall_ and goes to see her friend, pleased and proud all over again when she sees Quistis behind the Headmaster’s desk.

She confessed to Rinoa once that she’d resigned her teaching position because she was unable to handle the pressure of being in charge, that she second-guessed her decisions and found it crippling to deal with students who refused to listen or who challenged her authority.

Saving the world seems to have gone a long way in easing those insecurities, and Quistis’s natural gifts for administration and delegation make her a popular and well-liked headmaster, as well as an efficient one. She’s blossomed under the responsibility and while she says she misses fieldwork and occasionally gets overwhelmed by the stressors of her position, she seems happy to be in charge.

“Hi, Rinoa!” She gives Rinoa a friendly smile, waving at the seat in front of her desk. Her office is a cheerful mishmash of odds-and-ends she collected on their adventures – Quistis has a weakness for tacky souvenirs – and photographs.

She has a photo of her and Rinoa framed on her desk, one of the few taken before their defeat of Ultimecia. They’re in Trabia, way up north near the Shumi Village, while Squall tried to hunt down a baby chocobo near the Chocobo Forest. Rinoa remembers it fondly because they’d been in the middle of a terrible situation but she and Quistis had laughed so hard at Squall trying to catch the chocobo that they’d collapsed in laughter against each other, unable to stand.

There’s a blur of yellow feathers in the background, and maybe a blur of someone in black leather. Rinoa picks up the photograph and smiles at it fondly. It’s not that long ago, not really, but the two women in the photograph seem almost like different people.

“I keep this one here because it was a moment of levity in a world of constant terror,” Quistis jokes. She giggles. “Also, every time Squall is in here and sees it, he starts scowling.” She mimics the baby chocobo's warbling little cry and the two women start giggling.

“I still have that whistle,” Quistis says, wiping at her eyes. “But I can’t display it or Squall would find it, steal it, and feed it to a T-Rexsaur.”

“Probably,” Rinoa agrees, settling back in her chair. “So what’s up?” As much as she likes hanging out with Quistis, there’s no way Quisty would have wanted her to come visit in the middle of a busy day just to laugh about Squall’s chocobo-catching inadequacies.

“Okay, so, just hear me out,” she says, and Rinoa groans inwardly because for some reason she has a feeling she’s not going to like what Quistis is going to say.

She pushes a paper across her desk at Rinoa. “Those are the enrollment numbers for the various Gardens over the last five years. Before our fight against Ultimecia, there was a distinct downward trend across the board. Obviously, that’s changed, as you can see.” She points to a column. “That’s our numbers, and of course, some of last year’s increase is because they were still finishing up with the construction at Trabia so we had more students as a result.”

Rinoa is following along, but wow, she’s glad she doesn’t have to look at spreadsheets for her job. “Yes, I see.”

“But, Trabia is up and running and we’re still getting more enrollment applications than ever. Now, I don’t know how much you know about SeeD training but after the initial cadet period, students are free to specialize in whatever weapon they want. We offer our recommendations, but in the end it’s the student’s decision. If they choose poorly, then…” she shrugs. “And sometimes we’re wrong. They wanted me to study nunchucks like Selphie, but seeing as how I hit myself in the face every time I tried using them….”

The whip is a good weapon for Quistis. It allows her to be distanced and precise when she strikes. Selphie, for her part, seems to embody the spirit of her chosen weapon; strong and up-close, capable of moving like a blur and leaving havoc in her wake.   

“The point is, there is a very specific reason why this Garden has so many more applicants, and I bet you can guess what his name is.” She smiles.

Rinoa knows absolutely, she’s been out with Squall when young kids come up and talk about wanting to be a great SeeD like he is, how they want to save the world from evil someday, too. It makes Squall intensely uncomfortable, he has none of his father’s easy charm with other people and besides, he’s always insisting that he didn’t want to save the world. He just wanted to save Rinoa.

“When we were all cadets, no one wanted to fight with a gunblade. It’s unwieldy, it’s heavy, and it’s dangerous – a sword that shoots bullets? I’m pretty sure there were only two gunblade students the whole time I was training, and one of them was Squall.”

Quistis doesn’t say who the other is, but they both know his name.

“Anyway, we have so many people wanting to study gunblades now, and the problem is, our gunblade expert is the commander of SeeD. He doesn’t exactly have time to train cadets how to use them.” Quistis snorts. “And I love Squall like a brother, but Hyne knows he’s a _terrible_ teacher. Can you imagine? He’d just stand there and say, _I don’t know, you just do it this way, figure it out yourself, bye._ ”

He would absolutely do that. Rinoa shakes her head at the thought, but she’s a little confused. Why is Quistis talking to her about this so officially? Usually this is the kind of thing she’d share over a few glasses of wine and a cheesy horror flick in her apartment.

“Do the other Gardens not have gunblade instructors?”

“Well, they have people who can _use_ them, but no one specializes in it. Rinoa…if you’re a cadet who wants to study the gunblade and be a SeeD, you want to come train with your idol. And that’s good,” she adds. “The extra income is allowing us to do some things that I really want us to focus on, like your diplomacy position and adding a few extra amenities, did you _know_ the Trabian Garden now has an administrator’s only _spa_? Hmph. They say it’s because they’re surrounded by the tundra and snow, and we’re on the beach but I don’t know why that means _we_ can’t have one, too.”

Rinoa considers that. She definitely wouldn’t mind a spa.

“Our only option at this point is hiring a gunblade instructor. And there’s only one other person who can even come close to Squall’s proficiency, and it just so happens he’s out of a job.”

Rinoa stares at her friend, eyes wide. “You want to hire _Seifer Almasy_?”

“There’s really no other option!” she protests. “We’ve kept tabs on him, and it doesn’t seem like people are too willing to give him a job.”

“He was pardoned, though,” Rinoa points out. “Along with me and Edea.” While Edea and Rinoa’s pardons were mostly for show – no one really expected them to be held accountable for the evil sorceress having possessed them against their will – Seifer was another story. There were many people, including her father, who wanted him to face a firing squad for his crimes. Unlike his daughter and Edea, her father had argued, Seifer been _willing_ to do Ultimecia’s bidding.

As if there was any other choice. Rinoa had testified on Seifer’s behalf, as had the rest of them – even Zell, though reluctantly – and in the end, the simple answer was that either they all be held accountable and executed for crimes against humanity, or none of them would be. Politically, it was in Garden’s best interest not to claim that the bulk of the responsibility lay with an ex-SeeD candidate – especially since the entire point of the organization was to combat rogue sorceresses.

The last time Rinoa saw Seifer was two years ago after the pardons were announced. Seifer barely even glanced her way before he threw a sarcastic salute along with a drawled, “Be seeing you, Leonhart,” toward Squall on his way out the door.

“Pardons don’t mean forgiveness,” Quistis says, gently, now. “I’m sure his charming attitude doesn’t help. Anyway, it seems like he just applied to lead extreme hiking trips through Trabia. Which is apparently for people who get a thrill out of taunting nature and winning.”

Rinoa thinks about that. “So first he rebels against Garden, then humanity, and now nature itself? At least he’s consistent.”

Quistis leans forward, her look very intense. “We also think that it might be a front for running weapons illegally.”

Rinoa doesn’t want to get in a conversation with Quistis about illegal weapons, especially considering some of the things she did in her short-lived career as a Timber resistance fighter. 

“The thing is, it’s a slippery slope, you know? I did some research to find out about my parents, and while I couldn’t find anything out about my mom, my dad went to prison apparently for breaking and entering when he was younger. Then when he got out, he couldn’t find a job. He’d say he was an ex-con and even though he’d paid his debt to society, no one wanted to hire him.”

Rinoa felt her heart constrict a little at the thought. “That’s terrible.”

“Right? So, he lies on an application and uses a fake name, thinking, if he just gets a job and proves himself, they won’t care if they find out that he’d been in jail for stealing. And it works, for a little while. He meets my mom and they have me, but then someone finds out about his lying and he gets fired. Now he's an ex-con who lies about it, and forget it, there’s no one who’ll hire him. He goes right back to crime and gets busted doing something even worse this time than just robbery. So he ends up back in jail, who knows what happens to my mom, and I end up at Matron’s.”

Rinoa leans forward, eyes wide. This sounds a little too much like a Galbadian melodrama but Quistis isn’t a liar. “Do you know what happened to him? Is he – still alive?”

Quistis shakes her head. “I think he was shanked in prison or something, I don’t know. My point is, I know what Seifer did was wrong, but we grew up together. And maybe I think he deserves at least a _chance_ to make things better. Where I can keep an eye on him.”

Quistis would, of course, think that.

“Why are you telling me?” Rinoa asks. “Are you asking my permission or something?”

Quistis nods. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because, as much as I meant all that about second chances and slippery slopes, he tortured someone who is basically my brother and handed my best friend over to a sorceress. If him being here means you leave? Then he can freeze to death while covered in pine needles or whatever extreme hiking really entails.”

Rinoa leans back in her seat, chewing on her lip. Her thoughts about Seifer and his culpability in the war are complicated at best. Yes, Seifer tried to give her to Adel…but Rinoa was the one who set her free of her cosmic prison in the first place.

“There was this moment in the Lunatic Pandora, right before he gave me to Adel,” she says, thinking back even though she usually doesn’t like to dwell on this particular time of her life. “He looked right at me and said my name, and it almost sounded like he was saying he was sorry.” Of course, Squall and Quistis had appeared right after that, and Seifer went back to taunting Squall and ignoring her.  

Seifer had been a shadow of the brash, cocky young man she remembered both from their brief romance and their time as adversaries. Seifer’s favorite white coat was torn and gray, his hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot and shadowed. Ultimecia drained her powers during that fight but she’d been doing it Seifer for months by that point, and it showed.

Rinoa knows she can’t have a job that relies on peace and reconciliation and making amends by denying it to someone just because she’s the one they’ve wronged. And she would like to believe that there’s still good, somewhere, in Seifer Almasy.

“It’s fine with me, but…I think you might have a harder time convincing Squall.” They both know that while Rinoa might be the type to forgive Seifer for what he did under Ultimecia’s name, Squall isn’t nearly as forgiving. Especially when it comes to what Seifer did to Rinoa.

“Honestly, it’s a toss-up if Seifer will even want to take the job,” Quistis says, as Rinoa stands up to leave. “It’s not like anyone here would be happy to see him.”

Which, Rinoa thinks, is exactly why he _would_ take the job. But she doesn’t say that.

***

Squall is infuriated, of course.

“Why she thinks he’d even want to come back here is beyond me,” Squall hisses, pacing the floor of their apartment.

Angelo paces alongside him, which is cute – or would be, if Squall wasn’t radiating displeasure like a furnace.

“So you said no?”

“Of course I said no.” Squall glances at her and scowls. It’s rare that he lets so much anger show on his face. “Not like it matters, she’ll do whatever she wants and hiring decisions are up to her, not me. I just don’t get her! She _hated_ Seifer, he was practically the reason she didn’t want to teach anymore!”

“Maybe that’s another reason why she wants him to come back,” Rinoa points out, gently. “Maybe she wants to overcome what he represented to her in the past.” She can sort of understand that, can’t she?

“Why did you tell her it was okay?” Squall demands, his cold eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you’d want him here, either.”

“I don’t.” Rinoa tries to explain it in a way that Squall, caught up as he is in his anger, will be able to understand. “But I don’t want what happened to me to rule the rest of my life, Squall. Seifer was a victim in his own right, and I don’t want to give him any power over me.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to – to see him all the time, you know how he is, Rinoa, _you know_.”

Actually, she doesn’t know. Seifer and Squall have always been rivals. The Seifer that Rinoa knew was someone else entirely, or at least he had been until Ultimecia. Then he’d been nothing but a weapon; wielded without mercy, ready to discard when a newer, better one came along.

Seifer had been a mess when she’d faced him in the Lunatic Pandora, but Hyperion had been polished and shining, everything Seifer himself wanted to be but couldn't.

She shakes herself out of her reverie and says, “What will you do if he agrees to come back?”

“The same thing I always do with things I don’t like,” he says, in a rare moment of amused self-reflection. “Ignore it until I can’t anymore, then go kill a few T-Rexsaurs in the training room.”

Rinoa shakes her head in fond exasperation. “Do you think he'll actually take it?”

“Oh, he’ll take it,” Squall says with certainty. “And it won’t be because he’s grateful that Quistis is giving him a second chance or whatever. He’ll just think it’s because we need him and he’s too good for us to pass up.”

Rinoa wonders if maybe he’s considered that it doesn’t necessarily have to be one or the other, but she doesn’t ask.

***

She’s having lunch with Selphie and Irvine in the cafeteria, laughing at their never-ending bickering and enjoying the uncomplicated friendship and clear affection they’ve always shown her, when she feels a thunderclap of rage break over her like a summer storm.

One day she’s really going to have to tell Laguna how well-named his son is.

“I – I think Seifer’s here,” Rinoa says, swallowing.

“How do you know that?” Selphie asks, leaning in. Her voice pitches low. “Is it because he used to be a knight and you’re a sorceress?”

“Or,” Irvine says, staring out from under the brim of his hat and pointing a finger-gun at her, “Do you just know where we all are, every minute of the day?”

Normally, Rinoa might make a joke about that and how Irvine better watch out. But he and Selphie are just back together, again, after yet another of Irvine’s failed attempts to stay faithful caused a break-up … or maybe it was Selphie’s, this time, Rinoa loses track with these two.

Also, she’s too unsettled by the force of Squall’s rage to do anything but try and take a few deep breaths, easing off their bond because she’s not an angry person and she doesn’t like feeling this way at all. She doesn’t like that Squall feels that way, either, but at least he’s used to it.

They call him the ice prince, but it’s like they forget how ice can _burn_.

“Squall’s pissed, isn’t he?” Zell’s usually cheerful grin is gone, replaced with a tight-lipped scowl. He’s the most vocally displeased about their new gunblade instructor, and apparently not even Quistis’s sob story about her prison dad could change his mind.

Which, far be it from Rinoa to question the accuracy of Quistis’s research, but the more she thinks about that story the more it really _does_ sound like a Galbadian melodrama.

“Honestly, Rinoa, you two should find an apartment in Balamb or something,” Zell says to her. “I’ve never seen anybody make Squall as angry as Seifer, and half the time all it takes is the two of them being in the same _room_.”

“They weren’t like that as kids, were they?” Selphie frowns. “I remember more now, but not a lot. Did they always get on each other’s nerves that much?”

“It was more like, they didn’t get along but they refused to play with anyone but each other. ‘Least, I kinda remember that from after Ellone left.” Irvine, who is the least likely of them all to Junction a GF, seems to have the best recall of their days from the orphanage. “Like, they played together but Hyne help you if you wanted to play, too.”

“Which, fine, that’s kid stuff and we were all little monsters, probably,” Zell says. “But I was here when they were cadets, and you guys. I’m telling you, no one makes Squall as mad as Seifer does, and the thing is? It’s _obvious_ when he does it. I’ve seen Squall bad-breathed by a malboro and be less irritated than Seifer cutting in front of him in line in the cafeteria.”

Rinoa has a sudden memory of their conversation from a few weeks ago, in which Squall mentioned his earliest sex fantasies and how they were always a result of someone turning him on by making him angry. How he asked Rinoa if _she_ was surprised he was fantasizing about a man, but he himself didn’t seem to have a single issue with it.  

Oh. _Oh._  

***

Rinoa sees Seifer a few times over the next few weeks – he’s hard to miss, being as tall as he is – but they don’t say a word to each other.

Squall’s mood is dangerous and he spends a lot of time in the training room, but he does surprise her one day by saying, grudgingly, that there’s a waiting list for Seifer’s class. “I mean, I bet it pisses him off that he has to teach gunblading because of _me._ ” Squall smiles a mean little smile that looks completely out of place.

Seifer keeps to himself, mostly, and Rinoa wouldn’t even realize he was there most of the time if it weren’t for the angry lust energy she gets occasionally when Squall isn’t fast enough to shut it off.

She’s thinking of the best way to bring this up, and even _if_ she should bring this up, when she’s assailed by a wave of energy so intense it nearly sends her to her knees in the hallway. This isn’t the same as the momentary flashes she gets before Squall slams down his mental barriers. It’s way too strong for that, almost like he’s in battle, but there’s enough lust in there that she doesn’t think the Garden is in imminent danger.

Except…maybe she should check, just to be sure.

Rinoa follows the pull of the bond without thinking and finds herself amidst a growing crowd in the quad, and that’s where she finds Squall facing off against Seifer.

For a moment Rinoa feels her magic draw down and fingers tingle, lust replaced by the single-minded urge to _protect_ that lights her up like a firework. Then she hears some cheers and realizes that they’re not trying to kill each other, there’s no evil sorceress waiting to take control of her body. They’re just sparring.

Rinoa moves over to the side and leans against a stone column to watch.

Hyne, but she’s never been able to do this before – watch Squall fight and appreciate it just for the pure artistry of his skill instead of the _please don’t die, please be okay_ desperation. It’s almost like the two of them are dancing, some martial ballet performed with drawn blades.

Squall’s face is impassive, cold, shut-down…but inside, oh, inside, he’s  _singing._

Rinoa never paid much attention to Seifer’s fighting ability when they were on opposite sides of a war, other than for strategic purposes. He fights differently than Squall, wielding that gunblade of his with a cocky one-handed surety, far more graceful than she thought he’d be given his larger frame.  

“Oh, Hyne,” Selphie breathes, appearing next to her. Her eyes are wide. “I can’t believe this isn’t actually a battle we need to win. I keep thinking I need to get Strange Vision and start wailing on Seifer.”

She sort of sounds like she _wants_ to get Strange Vision and start wailing on Seifer, but then again, Selphie is a girl who likes her job. Her aura is the strangest mix of perkiness and bloodlust, violence and sweetness, that Rinoa’s ever seen.

“Come on, pretty boy,” Seifer calls, motioning at Squall with his free hand. “I’m barely breaking a sweat, here. Stop wasting my time.”

“Did Instructor Almasy just call Commander Leonhart _pretty boy_?” One of the cadets near her whispers to another.

“He’s not wrong,” the other whispers back.

Selphie clears her throat and glances at Rinoa. “Hello, his girlfriend is _right here_.”

The cadet just shrugs and grins. He’s about fifteen, maybe sixteen. “So she totally agrees with me, right?”

She totally does.

The fight alternates between Seifer taunting Squall and utter silence; Squall doesn’t speak, his focus is sharper than a cactuar’s thousand needles. He lets Seifer get in close and then drives him back, and it’s all pressing advantages and going for an opening and Rinoa has never been a fan of violence, but she’s starting to become a really big fan of violence for the sake of showing off as long as no one gets hurt.

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Quistis asks, coming to stand next to Selphie. Her voice is full of affectionate pride. “They both are. Your footwork’s gotten better, Almasy!” she calls.

Seifer flips her off and blocks one of Squall’s attacks at the same time.

Quistis claps, and Seifer manages to sweep her a bow before nearly getting clipped by the edge of Squall’s blade.

“Wow, too slow and I even gave you an opening. Tsk, tsk, Commander,” Seifer taunts, raising Hyperion to meet Squall’s next attack. He’s breathing hard, and his aura is giving off fire so hot she’s sure the hilt of his blade would burn his skin if he weren’t wearing gloves.   

“How do they decide who wins?” Rinoa asks, and Quistis obviously notices her friend’s flushed face and breathy voice, and covers her mouth with her hand.  

“Yeah, you wanna drag him off after this, huh?” Quistis laughs. “And I don’t know. In training there’s a point system, but these two never did use it.”  

Seifer’s smirk vanishes and he goes after Squall with renewed vigor, and the teasing quality is gone; the students must notice because they go quiet, no more catcalling, and it’s starting to feel different in the room. There’s a malicious gleam in Seifer’s eyes, his features twisted in anger.

“So how do they know when to stop?” Rinoa asks, watching as Squall twists his body and does an honest-to-Hyne backflip off a _wall_ to avoid one of Seifer’s strikes. She had no idea Squall could even _do_ that.

“First blood? When one of them is unconscious? I recall both possibilities back when they were my students.”

Rinoa doesn’t think she’s kidding. She suddenly can’t breathe, watching, wondering if they’re both going to bleed and how badly.

“It won’t be long, now,” Quistis says, still watching, though she pats Rinoa on the shoulder. As if Rinoa hadn’t survived seeing these two try and _actually_ kill each other, several times. “Seifer’s getting tired, you can tell. See? He might have taunted Squall about driving a desk chair, but Squall trains all the time and whatever Seifer’s been doing, it hasn’t been going through repetitious gunblade technique drills.”

There’s a strange prickling sensation on her neck and Rinoa glances over to see Seifer raise a hand, palm out, and she feels the crackle of magic a second before the blue glow lights in his palm.

But he doesn’t aim the thundara spell at Squall – he aims it right above Rinoa, so that the bolt hits a large stone potted plant on the top of the column she's leaning against.

Squall leaps without hesitation to pull her out of the way, but Rinoa manages a barrier spell in the nick of time and keeps the stone planter from crashing to the ground. She’s naturally gifted with protective magic, even before she became a sorceress. Still, Seifer’s magic has to go somewhere and she can taste ozone as her spell absorbs his, making her own magical aura jerk like … well, like it’s been electrocuted.

The room goes quiet and Seifer laughs, harshly. “I win.”

“Are you all right?” Squall demands, ignoring Seifer. He’s sweaty and breathing hard, grabbing her arm so tight it hurts.

She nods. She should have expected it, really. Quistis marches over to Seifer and starts yelling at him, but he looks singularly unimpressed. The students are slowly making their way to the door, and who can blame them for wanting to get the hell out of there? No one with any sense wants to be around a disappointed headmaster, an angry commander, a crazy instructor and a sorceress powerful enough to swallow thunder.

“I should have known you’d fight fucking dirty,” Squall snaps at Seifer.

“Yeah, you really should have.” Seifer looks unconcerned. He walks by them and bumps into Squall, hard enough to jostle him. “Good fight, though.” He strolls out of the quad whistling, gunblade slung like a Dollet gangster over his shoulder.

Squall is staring daggers into his back, his aura dangerous, and he doesn’t move until Seifer has sauntered out of sight. Then he blinks, whirls around and says, “Let’s go, I want to make sure he didn’t hurt you.”

“Squall –” she swallows her argument like she swallowed the spell, because Squall is so angry she thinks she sees a shimmer of Shiva around his retreating form.  

The second they’re in their room he pushes her against the wall and says, “Are you all right?”  

She hates to admit how attractive he is like this, but she can’t help it. Rinoa kisses him, hard, grabbing his hair and pressing against him wantonly. She doesn’t care that he’s covered in sweat. He makes a surprised sound and kisses her back just as harshly, pressing aggressively forward and grinding the bulge of his cock into her so hard that she jumps up, legs wrapping around his lean hips to get closer.

It’s rougher than usual but she doesn’t mind, she’s still thrumming from watching the fight and even the flash of danger from Seifer’s dirty little trick. She tries to go for Squall’s belt, but he grabs her hands and slams them over her head against the wall, leaning down to bite and kiss at her neck.

“Squall, fuck me,” she pants, squirming, so turned on she thinks if he just touched her clit she’d come like a house on fire.

Squall growls something and shifts so he’s holding both of her wrists easily with one hand, the other pushing up her inner thigh, the leather of his glove hot on her skin. She tries to buck against his hand and he bites her on the shoulder with a growl, and she can’t help the small wince at how hard the bite is, he’s never done that before.

Suddenly he shoves away from her, and she nearly collapses in a heap.

“No,” he says, shaking his head.

Rinoa, still dazed with lust, blinks at him in confusion. “Squall, what….?” She has to stop from stomping her foot in unfulfilled sexual frustration.

“No,” he says, again. He drags a gloved hand through his sweaty hair. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“What?” She can’t be hearing him right. She’d felt how hard he was.

“I’ll hurt you,” he says, flatly.

“No, you won’t—”

“Yes,” he interrupts her, his eyes burning-blue. “I _will_.”

She almost argues, says she trusts him but then she understands, finally, what it is he’s saying. He wants to hurt someone. He wants to fuck someone. Just not her. And it’s painfully obvious who that _someone_ is.

“Ah,” she says, and neither of them have to say the truth out loud for it to hover there between them, powerful as a spell. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

His face shuts down, and he says, very quietly, “I will _not_ put my hands on you when I feel this way because of him. Ever. You – that’s not what you are to me, and I won’t let you be.”

She nods, leaning back against the wall. Rinoa’s riding the sharp edges of Squall’s lust and finally realizes what he’s feeling isn’t a desire for rough sex, or she’d be getting fucked to within an inch of her life right now.   

Seifer is the destructive magic to her protective, and right now Squall doesn’t want to heal, he wants to _hurt._

She feels the impact of his guilt at this realization and he slams the mental barriers on their bond, so hard it stings more than the bite on her shoulder. “Squall,” she says, softly, unsure what she wants to say – _it’s all right,_ and _I’m not mad_ warring with _I wish you didn’t need that, but you wouldn’t be who you were if you didn’t._

“I’m – you need to leave me alone,” Squall says, and she nods, knowing he means _in my head_ as well as in person, and honestly, she’s glad for the time alone because she needs to think. There’s really nothing she can do, here; Squall has his reasons for not wanting to put his hands on her when he’s angry, and now that she’s thinking straight, she can and will respect that.

It doesn’t change that whole thing about who he _does_ want to put his hands on, though. The only question is…is Squall the only one who wants it?

The only thing to do is to cast some metaphorical protect around herself and confront the fire dragon in its lair. 

So she does. 

***

Seifer answers the door clearly having just showered. His damp hair is slicked back but a few strands are already drying and hanging over his forehead. He’d told her once that it was a cowlick he'd finally stopped trying to fight. 

He’s dressed in loose black pajama pants and a tank top, and he peers at her, his smile cold and his eyes unfriendly. “Well, well, Miss Heartilly,” he drawls. “What a boring surprise. What do you want?”  

“To talk to you. Can I come in?”

Seifer gives her a slow up-down, and it’s clear that it’s meant to be an insult. Her magic cackles and her eyes narrow, and he rolls his eyes and the façade drops as he moves aside. “Fine, yes, go ahead. Just don’t expect me to be nice about it.”

She follows him into the apartment, sparing it a curious glance as they head toward the kitchen. Seifer’s been here a little less than two months, but it barely looks lived in. Honestly, if he didn’t share an apartment with her, Squall’s would probably look the same. The idea of decorating seems entirely foreign to him, which is weird considering Squall does appreciate a good accessory when it comes to his personal appearance.

There’s a photograph in a frame on the small shelf near the door. Rinoa doesn’t pick it up like she did the one in Quistis’ office, as his displeasure with her even _looking_ at it is evident in his aura. It’s Seifer with his two friends Fujin and Raijin, Seifer in the middle, and while Fujin has the same serious  look on her face that Rinoa remembers from the few times they’d met during the war, Raijin is grinning widely like the war never was.

This is clearly after it was over, though, because there’s something just a little shadowed about Seifer’s grin. Still, it’s humanizing, to know that he does have people who care about him.

Seifer’s gunblade is in pieces on the kitchen table, with a rag and a cleaning kit. That’s a familiar sight to be sure. 

“Well?” He leans against the counter that separates the small kitchen from the living room and waits.

“You’ve barely spoken to me since you’ve been here,” she says. The last thing she notices is a book on the couch, and she remembers that Seifer has always liked to read. The spine is too creased to reveal the title, but she imagines it’s something about dragons and sorcerers.

She wonders if anyone here knows about his reading preferences. It reminds her that she knows other things about him, that he’s not a bad cook and that he has a decent singing voice, that he likes old movies and video games.

“We got something to talk about, princess?”

“Could you use my name, please?”

“I could,” Seifer says. “But I ain’t gonna.”

“You know, if this is what you have to do so we can have a conversation, fine. Just get it over with.” Rinoa is ready to be done with the stupid posturing, it’s _so_ tiresome. She doesn’t have to do this with Quisty or Selphie, ever. “But I can tell how you really feel.”  

“Oh, you can, can you?” Seifer picks up a beer on the counter and takes a swig. He then wiggles the beer as if offering her one, and she nods in acceptance. He seems a little surprised but he gets her a bottle from the fridge, twists the top off and hands it over. “Go ahead, then, _Rinoa._ How am I feeling?”

She reads his aura as easily as he’s probably reading that well-loved book. “Tired from the fight, you actually appreciated that comment Quisty made about your footwork because you’ve been working on it, and mad that your students saw you lose to Squall—"  

“I didn’t lose,” he interrupts, and his posture is still deceptively easy but there’s a tension in his shoulders that says he’s annoyed.

“Cheap shots don’t win battles,” she informs him, chin raised.

“The hell they don’t. And what do you know about it, hmm? I thought your career as a resistance fighter mostly involved elaborate kidnapping plots involving switching trains.”

Okay, fine, maybe that’s true. “I won all the fights I had against you,” she snaps. At his raised eyebrow look, she sips her beer and makes a face – it’s rare that she drinks, and when she does, she likes beer with actual flavor, not this watery Galbadian nonsense. She sighs. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

“Just to yell at me?”

“Actually, I was serious. Why haven’t you spoken to me?”

Seifer stares at her, and he’s trying for expressionless but he’s nowhere near as good at it as Squall. He never has been. Seifer, like her, shows everything he’s feeling in some way or another. “Didn’t think we had much to talk about.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“That’s war, sweetheart.” He leans back against the counter, studying her. She, in turn, does the same. The tank top is just a little too tight, making it clear that despite job-hopping he’s still in excellent shape. Like Squall, his arms are incredibly well-defined from the gunblade. The past hasn’t been kind to him, but he wears it well. “You gave as good as you got.” He points the beer bottle at her, like a toast.

She’s inexplicably sad at the circumstances that made them enemies, because Rinoa always _liked_ Seifer. “We used to be friends.”

“We used to be more than that. We were also teenagers. And now you’re dating Commander Stick-Up-His-Ass, and I’m playing the part of Sir Lucky To Have a Job.” He bows mockingly. “We caught up, now? Goodbye.”

“I’m not here to make you apologize to me,” she says quietly, because she knows that beneath all of this he does feel regret for what he did, and that’s why he’s being an ass. He probably wants to apologize and hates himself for it. “Ultimecia was in my mind, too.”

His expression goes from mocking to dangerous. “Maybe they didn’t tell you, but a condition of my employment is that I don’t talk about her. Ever.”

“They don’t want you to talk about Ultimecia?” That seems strange, especially considering the purpose of SeeD is to fight evil sorceresses just like her.

“No, dingbat. It was _my_ condition when I agreed to take the job, that I not have to go over it all again. I had other offers, you know.”

“Extreme hiking, was it? I didn’t think you liked camping.”

“So Quistis told you about that? Did she also tell you how I was going to end up running weapons because once a criminal, always a criminal?” At Rinoa’s somewhat guilty expression, he bursts into laughter that is just on the wrong side of genuine. “Man, she is ruthless with that story about her dad. I’m almost impressed. And they say _I_ fight dirty.”

Rinoa cocks her head thoughtfully. “You weren’t planning on running guns?”

“Are you kidding me? Like I want to get involved in anyone else’s war ever again.” He takes a long pull off the beer. “No, I was legitimately interested in the position because I was tired of being in Dollet. Did she also tell you that I got fired from my other jobs because of my _sordid past_?”

“She…maybe implied that you were having trouble keeping a job, yes.”

Seifer shakes his head. “They’ve done a number on you here, kid. Yeah, because all the jobs were boring as shit. You’d be surprised, not a lot of people really care that much about what I did.”

Ah. Rinoa smiles at him. “I bet you hated that, huh. All of that work and none of the notoriety.”

His thundara from earlier didn't hit its target, but her barb does. Seifer scowls, and his sharp eyebrows and his scar make him look mean even when he isn’t trying, so when he _does_ try, it’s incredibly effective. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re allowed to throw a thunder spell at me—”

“It wasn’t at _you_ , princess, it was at a planter above your head. And like I thought for one second you couldn’t do exactly what you did and take care of yourself.”

She blinks, because she’d expected him to say something about how he expected Squall to save her. It must be obvious, because he snorts and his expression eases out of dangerous and back into his usual smirk. “I knew Leonhart would jump at the chance to save you and then I’d win.”

“So you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“You’ve been there when I _have_ tried to hurt you, Rinoa, can’t you tell the difference?” Seifer takes another drink of his beer. “What? You look like you want to lecture me. You really have been hanging out with Commander Joyless and the headmaster too much.”

She ignores the weak insults and glances at the picture of Fujin and Raijin and him again. “I think you could have friends here. If you tried.”

His sharp laugh sounds like a bark. “Except that I don’t want any. I don’t get it, did Squally send you to tell me to play nice?”

That’s so ridiculous a thought that she snorts. “Don’t be dumb.”

“That’s me. Dumb blond and all.” He studies her for a long moment with frank interest. “Then are you here because you want an apology or something?”

She shrugs. “I’d love one if you really meant it, sure.” She turns her back on him and walks over to the couch, placing her mostly untouched beer on the table and picking up the book again. “I remember how much you used to like to read.”

“You don’t know me anymore, Rinoa. Go back to playing house with Squall and leave me alone.”

That’s interesting, because it almost sounds like he’s jealous and she doesn’t honestly believe he has feelings for her that aren’t caught up in guilt and regret. Which means he’s jealous of _her_ , and, well, isn’t that what brought her here?

“I know what it was like, Seifer. To be unable to stop yourself. And yes, you had more agency than I did, but in some ways, that makes it worse, right?” She glances up at him. “I’m not trying to be your enemy. I never was.”

He looks away at that.  “If there weren’t sides it wouldn’t be war, princess. Just how it goes.”

“You need better beer,” is her answer. She puts the book down and picks the bottle back up, walking over and thrusting her half-full bottle at him. When his hands are occupied, she catches hold of his shirt and yanks, her magic sparking. “Seifer? You _ever_ try and use me against Squall like that again, I will fuse your spine to your face and turn you into a tonberry. Got me?”

He blinks, then gives her the first real smile she’s seen on his face since they were awkward summer lovers and would-be revolutionaries. It makes him look like a different person, crinkling up the new lines around his eyes. His laugh is short but deep-chested and genuine. “Can you _do_ that?”

“Try it again and we’ll see.” She releases his shirt, confident she’s made her point. 

That brief, rare smile vanishes and then he says, “Look. I meant it when I said I don’t want to talk about it but…if it means anything, I _am_ sorry.”

She knows he’s being sincere simply because of how uncomfortable he is. “It does mean something. Thank you. But that’s really not why I’m here.”

“Just show me your final form and let’s move on with our lives,” he mutters, then, “that’s a video game joke. Ask Squall to explain it.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “That’s why I’m here, actually.”

“Squall?” His eyes go cold and that mean little smirk is back. “I should have known. Look, Rinoa. You’re not going to make me apologize to him, and you’re not gonna like hearing me tell you why so let’s just have our reasonably nice moment and leave it at that.”

She waits, patiently, then says, “Are you done? Yes? Good. How long have you had a thing for Squall?”

“How –what?” Seifer blinks at her. “By ‘a thing’, you mean, _an all consuming hatred,_ right?”

Rinoa just gazes at him, enjoying the opportunity to look at his eyes. Seifer has gorgeous eyes; they’re almond-shaped so it’s sometimes hard to get the full effect of just how pretty they really are, especially given how much he’s always scowling. But they’re an incredibly lovely shade of blue-green, made even more striking by the way his bottom lids almost look as if he’s wearing eyeliner. “You know what I mean.”

“You honestly came here to ask if I had the hots for your boyfriend? You, my ex- _girlfriend_ , think I – Rinoa. I gave him that scar on his face, I tried to kill him, _I strapped him to an electrical wall and enjoyed torturing him,_ and you think I want to fuck him?”

That does make her sick to her stomach, but she doesn’t dwell on it. They’re all alive, and that’s what matters. _And I actually think you want him to fuck you, because all you’ve ever wanted is his undivided attention._ “Yup.”  

“You are fucked in the head,” Seifer says, and oh, he’s angry, he’s so angry he’s _shaking_ and if that’s any indication that she’s right, well. “Get out, go on, we are _done_ here, Rinoa, do not come back here, do not talk to me ever again, pretend I am _fucking dead_ and buried and –”

“You should probably get over yourself at some point and just admit it. I think you’ll be a lot happier.” She laughs at his look of outrage, but she barely makes it out the door before his fire spell rings out, so close to her head she thinks he might have caught some of her hair on fire.

***

Squall comes back to their room a few hours later, showered and dressed in fresh clothes. The bloodlust is still there, but the edges are dulled and he looks…well, like Squall. Unmoved and uncaring, but his glances at her say otherwise.  

“Hi.”

Rinoa is sprawled on their couch, reading a book. She smiles back at him. “Hi.”

“Um.” Squall runs a hand through his hair, then comes and sits next to her. Angelo trots in, immediately bumping his hand with her muzzle. Squall pets her, seeming to take comfort and strength from the loyal canine’s presence. “I fought some stuff and then I did some paperwork, so I’m calmer now.”

Only Squall would do paperwork to calm down. Smiling, Rinoa settles herself against his side, and his body is warm but his skin is slightly cool to the touch thanks to Shiva. “I’m glad you feel better.”

“Yeah.” Squall slides an arm around her and pulls her close, kissing the top of her head. “Look, Rin. The thing is, I…the first time I ever, uh, got myself off? It was Seifer I was thinking about. I don’t even really remember why or what happened when we were sparring, probably just that he was a jerk like he always was and never fought fair. I was so mad and I – got hard, and I wasn’t even thinking about sex, I was probably, uh, getting off thinking about winning because in the beginning he _always_ beat me.”

He takes her hand in his but doesn’t look at her as he keeps talking. “When I thought about doing anything else it was like…sparring, too. I tried thinking about other people, even other guys, but it never really did anything for me. And then I met you, and I’ve never, ever felt this way about anyone before and it was like…I didn’t want to hurt you, I wanted to keep you safe. I _love_ you, Rin, so much. I’d die for you. And I don’t want to feel what Seifer makes me feel because he almost took you away from me, and I….”

He glances up at her, eyes aching and earnest. “You deserve so much better than that. You’re this – good, perfect thing –”

“I’m not a thing, I’m a person,” she interrupts, bringing his hand to her mouth, kissing the back of his scarred knuckles to soften her words. “So that means I’m not perfect, and it also means the sole point of my existence isn’t for you to have something to keep safe. I want to be your partner, not kept on your pedestal. Okay?” 

He expels a breath, slowly, and some of his tension bleeds out. “I know that. I do,” he says, when she looks like she’s going to argue. “I know you’re a badass, Rin, trust me. But I can’t help wanting to keep you safe. It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” She wriggles around so she’s facing him and comfortably straddling his lap. “It’s really not necessary to apologize. You didn’t want to touch me when you were turned on out of anger, and it was wrong of me to push you. Honestly, I’m glad you did stop because I don’t want you to do that, either. With me.”

He nods. “Okay. Well. Then I did something right, for once.”

“You do things right all the time.” She tugs at his hair and kisses him. “But, Squall?”

“Hmm?”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t think you should do it with _someone_.”

He goes still, and his slate eyes look like rain. “What are you saying?”

“There’s something there, between you and Seifer. And I think you should let yourself figure out what it is.”

“I know what’s between us, and I’m not going to do anything about it but ignore it. This – the things I want, it’s just faulty wiring. There’s nothing to be done about it.”

“Let me put it this way. If you want to, if you need that from him, I’m giving you permission to have it. I just want to know, and I don’t want you to hide it from me. Can you promise me that?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I am never, ever going to put my hands on him unless it’s to wring his neck,” Squall mutters, but there it is again, the edges of want junctioned like a GF to Squall’s feelings about Seifer Almasy.

She wonders if she should tell him that she doesn’t think it’s just him that wants it, but at some point these two are going to have to figure it out for themselves.

***

Rinoa has an office, but she doesn’t really use it all that often. Her job mostly requires meetings and conference calls, and offices seem stuffy and boring; not even Squall likes his. Only Quistis seems to actually want to spend time in hers, though admittedly, it has a much nicer view and a way comfier chair.

It’s summer and it’s way too hot, so she enjoys being able to lounge around in shorts and a tank top, listening to music while going over notes for a presentation she wants to give to some fundraisers about how SeeD can be utilized for more peacekeeping missions.

It’s a perfectly nice day. Rinoa likes her job, she’s insanely happy and in love, she has great friends and the world is safe and the sun in shining…and she feels she wants to throw a succession of meteor flares at the wall for absolutely no good reason.

Squall, again.

Squall and _Seifer,_ again.

This is so ridiculous.

It’s been months since she gave Squall permission to do whatever he wanted about his attraction to Seifer Almasy, and maybe she shouldn’t be surprised that _he has done nothing_ , but she’s also…well.

She’s fed up.

The two of them are sparring somewhere outside, because they’ve been banned from doing it in the Garden. Not only do they tend to wreck things, but their shouting matches are so mean, a few junior cadets _cried_ overhearing one of them – or so Selphie claims.

Rinoa’s not sure she believes that, but she does know that Squall loses his temper and shouts things at Seifer that she knows he wishes he’d never said.

There’s a pounding at her door and a quick mental scan shows it to be Quisty, so Rinoa doesn’t bother putting on any more clothes and just mentally unlocks the door for her friend. “Come in!”

“I can’t stand this anymore,” Quistis fumes, marching in. She pauses, glances and Rinoa and says, “I am so jealous of your outfit right now.”

“Hey, you’re the one that insists on uniforms, headmaster.” Rinoa gives her friend a sympathetic look. “Squall and Seifer?”

“Of course.” Quistis undoes her scarf and falls gracelessly in a chair. She pulls her long hair up and closes her eyes as the fresh air from the window blows in. “What have I done? I will go down in history as the headmaster whose Garden exploded because her commander and her gunblade instructor think it’s okay to spar with _Meteor_?” She groans. “I should have listened to everyone who told me it was a bad idea to hire him. Ugh. My stupid prison dad, I’m glad someone shanked him.”

Rinoa smiles and shakes her head at her friend, but she feels it again, that same burn of _anger_ and hears, somewhere off in the distance, the sound of magic meeting magic and maybe the window shakes a little.  

“Rinoa, can you _try_ and talk to Squall? Seifer might calm down if Squall just ignores him.”

Rinoa doesn’t know how to tell Quistis how wrong that is. If Squall ignores Seifer, Seifer will just keep on until he gets Squall’s attention. And for some reason, no one has noticed that there are only two things in the whole world Squall Leonhart can’t ignore – and their names are Rinoa Heartilly and Seifer Almasy.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Rinoa says. “But only if you promise to get on that, about the spa.”

“It’s a deal,” Quistis says, and Rinoa goes to find some clothes.

***

Rinoa climbs off the motorcycle she’s borrowed, throws a protect around herself and a shield for good measure, then marches over to where she can hear the shouting and feel the magic shimmering in the air. She thought maybe Quistis was joking about the Meteor thing but…okay, maybe it’s not that level but it’ll probably get there.

Rinoa crests over the top of the hill, coming to a stop as she sees Squall. His jacket is discarded and he’s fighting in his leather pants and his white shirt, which is covered in sweat, dirt and a little bit of blood. His hair is whipping in the wind from the sea, and he looks…really hot, actually.

Seifer is across from him, in gray combat pants and a blue tank top – or it might have once been blue, at some point he fell into mud and it’s smeared all over his shirt and his boots. Their auras are angry, but she can feel the familiar hiss of Squall’s lust for Seifer, and this time, there’s no mistaking Seifer feels the same.

She’s just about to shout _would you two just make out already, Quistis is going to fire you both_ when she hears what they’re arguing about and…it’s her.  

“Yeah? Well _I_ can get her off in _two_ minutes, and the only thing she’s ever said about _you_ is that you came too fast!”

They might not have been using Meteor, but she does. Rinoa doesn’t think anyone will blame her, and if they try, she’ll blizzara them in the face because _she has had enough._

***

“Look, I’m sorry,” Squall says, for the sixth time. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“And why shouldn’t you have said that?” Rinoa’s hands are shaking. She’s not sure she has ever been so angry at Squall Leonhart, including that time he went out into _outer space_ to rescue her and then refused to give her a hug when they got back. 

“Because our sex life is private,” Squall says, his eyes wide. He looks…terrified of her. Good.

Rinoa hears a snort and spins around, focusing her gaze on the other person in the room. “And _you_. You! You apologized to me, and this is how you show you’re sorry? By taunting my _boyfriend_ about our sex life? Do you understand that I am a _person_ and not a – not something for you two to use in your stupid – ooh!”

Rinoa clenches her hands together and breathes. If they were back outside she’d be decimating _mountains._ She has to focus on not doing anything irreversible to the two idiots in her living room.

“Look, I was being an ass, princess, but if your boyfriend here is still mad about the fact I got you off a couple times like five years ago, then …”

She turns and claps a silence spell on him. “Let’s get something straight, here. They might very well lock me up in the Esthar Sorceress Memorial for this. They might build me my very own space tomb and _I don’t care._ I will float up there quietly and never regret a single terrible thing I am _so_ prepared to do to you _._ So, please, Seifer, when I take this silence spell off, please keep running your mouth. _I dare you._ ”

She removes the spell and he grins at her, unrepentant, and says, “You’re hot when you’re pissed.”

Rinoa tosses her hair. “I’m always hot. And you’ll be hot, too, because I will burn your balls off.”

“Good, me and Commander Whipped over there can be a matched set.”

Rinoa sees red, but then she hears Squall say, “Now you see why he pisses me off so much,” and she forces herself to calm down.

In fact, she Junctions Shiva and pulls that coolness into her, letting it calm and center her, then says, “I came to stop you two from arguing because you’re driving Quistis nuts. The students think you’re losing your mind, Squall. You’re making cadets _cry,_ Seifer, and you can give me that smirk all you want like maybe you like it, but these kids are starting to really look up to you! And I can feel that it bothers you to hear that, so cut the posturing for two seconds and _shut up._ ”

She looks at Squall, who is sitting on the couch, miserable, his elbows on his knees. “And for the record, the only person in this room who can make me come in two minutes or less? You’re looking at her.”

“If you can make yourself come so fast, why’s it a problem if I did, too?” Seifer laughs, and it doesn’t sound mean, but she’s really had it with both of them. “And maybe it wasn’t four minutes like I claimed but you gotta admit, it was under five.”

Rinoa presses her fingers to her temples, having to stop Squall from launching himself across the room – literally, she has to throw a Stop on him to keep him in place. “It’s true. Seifer’s good with his hands. And my sexual history is not something you _ever_ have the right to get possessive and jealous about, Squall Leonhart! You are not going to use me, _either_ of you, to get at each other. No magic, no commentary about my sex life even if you’re part of it, _nothing_. Got it? Because nothing about how badly the two of you want to fuck each other has anything to do with me.” 

Of course that gets their attention. Rinoa smiles coldly. “Oh, what? It’s fine to throw out my sexual history with both of you like you have some right to have feelings about it, but Hyne forbid I mention the fact you two are so hot for each other the only way you know how to deal with it is by fighting?”

“Seifer doesn’t –”

“Squally here isn’t into –”

They both go quiet, staring at each other.

Rinoa marches into the bedroom, packs an overnight bag and grabs Angelo’s leash. She trots at her side, less her pet at the moment and more her familiar, and she actually growls at Squall and straight-up barks at Seifer.

Squall’s eyes go huge and wide when he sees the bag in her hand. She walks over and pulls him down to kiss her. “I’m going to Quisty’s for the night. I’ll be back in the morning. I love you so much, and I love everything about you, even the parts of you that aren’t for me.” She presses her forehead to his and smiles. “I’ll see you in the morning. Have fun, sweetie.”

“Rinoa—”

“Shh.” She pulls back and glances over at Seifer. “You’re welcome.”

He shifts his glance back to Squall, and it’s very possible that she’s leaving them to murder each other, but she doesn’t think so. Squall’s face isn’t nearly as impassive as he probably thinks or wants it to be, and lust is bleeding off him in waves.

And Seifer…

Seifer smiles at Squall and reaches one black-gloved hand out, chin tilting as he motions at Squall with two fingers.

Rinoa leaves them to it.  

***

In the morning, she’s not sure what she expects but it’s definitely not to find Seifer in her kitchen, cooking.

Squall is sitting on the stool, flipping through a gunblade magazine. He glances up at her as she and Angelo make their way into the apartment. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She looks around as Angelo rushes over, naturally headed for the person in the kitchen that might feed her scraps of forbidden delights.

The couch has been shoved back and the coffee table is on the far wall, but nothing else looks broken. The door to the bedroom is open, though, and she can see the bed isn’t made, the sheets are on the floor and the mattress isn’t quite straight on the box springs.

She glances at Squall, who just sort of shrugs. “I guess you were right.”

“So gracious.” She walks over and leans down to kiss him, slightly concerned that Seifer is cooking shirtless. Not that she necessarily minds the view. He has bite marks on his chest. 

Squall puts a hand on her shoulder, and then he _does_ blush. “I – um –”

“He sucked me off in the shower,” Seifer says. “I think that’s why he doesn’t want to kiss you right now.”

“Oh.” Rinoa decides she doesn’t care and kisses Squall anyway. She glances over at Seifer. “And that’s as close as you’re ever getting.”

He laughs, and Squall makes a sort of affronted growling sound, and Seifer slides a plate across the counter and says, “Here’s your omelet.”

“I like mine with cheese, spinach and mushrooms,” Rinoa says, taking a seat next to Squall. She realizes there actually is bacon and steals a piece off Squall’s plate. “And more bacon.” Of course Seifer’s making bacon without a shirt on. Considering his list of bad decisions, that’s not anywhere near the top.

“Look at this gunblade upgrade,” Squall says, flipping the magazine around and showing it to Seifer. He’s more focused on the magazine than he is the omelet. “I can’t believe how much gil they’re charging! That guy in Deling is a hack if he thinks people will pay for that.”

“Eat your omelet before it gets fucking cold,” Seifer says, grabbing the magazine. He hits Squall over the head with it. Squall scowls and bats at him, but goes back to his omelet without saying anything.

Seifer stares at it, his sharp features pulling into an even sharper scowl. “What? Is that an airbrush…who would _do_ that?”

“Told you,” Squall mutters, next to her. 

Rinoa gently lowers the barrier between her and Squall, and even lets in some of Seifer’s aura. There’s still tension in the room, but mostly, all she feels is satisfaction – including her own.

Well. You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, and you can’t make a relationship work without breaking a few rules. 

 

 

 


End file.
